‘Well, if a son of mine can inherit my earldom of Richmond, it surely follows that he can also inherit his mother’s titles and honours, including any line of succession she may have to the English throne.’
PART TWO
The Tudor Earls
1453–1459
6
Jane
Tŷ Cerrig, Gwynedd, North Wales
SINCE OUR PATHS HAD last crossed, Jasper Tudor’s life had been transformed – and so had he. When I hurried nervously from the house to confront the troop of armed and mounted men approaching the farmstead up the track from the shore I failed to recognize him, at first. I should have been prepared since I knew from the songs the bards sang around the local farms and lordships that the cousins who had slept on the straw in our byre two summers ago had now been declared the king’s closest kin and created the foremost earls in the land. Nevertheless, when Jasper rode under the gate-arch, bareheaded but wearing gleaming armour, on a warhorse trapped in blue and silver and leading an entourage in what looked like royal livery, my jaw dropped.
He did not wait for a man to run and hold his horse but flung his steel-clad leg over the pommel and jumped from the saddle with eager assurance. ‘Jane! It is Jane is it not? You have grown taller and even lovelier than when we last met.’ He bent over my hand before raising his head and pressing his lips briefly to mine. It was a common enough greeting between family members but I must have looked shaken because he stepped back at once with an apologetic expression. ‘Oh, have I offended you? I crave your pardon. I thought we parted friends. And we are cousins are we not?’
I saw with an inner smile of relief that, earl or not, his cheeks had flushed. An inability to hide his blushes was one of the things I had liked about him, and the way he cocked his head enquiringly to one side instantly recalled the unpretentious young man I had known. I gave a little laugh and shrugged. ‘Distant cousins, yes – and no, you have not offended me. We heard you had become Earl of Pembroke but did not expect a visit this far from your earldom. Welcome back to Tŷ Cerrig, my lord.’ Remembering my manners I dropped a low curtsy.
He urged me to rise, his colour deepening. ‘I am still not used to ceremony,’ he confessed. ‘I came to see my cousin Hywel on a matter of business but it is an added bonus to find that you are still here, Jane. I thought you might be married and away by now.’
Not knowing how to respond to this remark I averted my eyes and cleared my throat. ‘My father and brothers are in the fields but I have sent word and they should be here directly.’ Seeing the dozen or so men still mounted behind him and awaiting orders I added, ‘Will your retinue take refreshment? We have bread and ale and water for the horses.’
‘Thank you yes, they will be glad of that, but fear not, they have no need of lodging. They will find it in the town.’ He signalled them to dismount. I noticed that most wore mail-armour under their livery and swords on their belts, while the remaining few were obviously servants, armed only with small blades. Their horses were damp with sweat and it looked like they had been moving fast, as if through potentially hostile territory.
‘They may be welcome trade at the Abermaw inns but there are always empty barns on the farm at this time of year,’ I said. ‘We would not turn them away.’
A lad came forward to hold his master’s horse. ‘There are water troughs over yonder,’ Jasper told him, pointing towards the stable block. ‘And tell the captain to send a couple of men up to the house to collect refreshments.’ The youth touched his forehead in acknowledgement and led the horse away but Jasper called after him. ‘And bring my saddlebags to me.’
‘I will, my lord.’
By now Bethan had emerged cautiously with Nesta. The little girl was clutching her mother’s skirts, scared by the sight of so many horses and men, but Bethan was smiling and nodding, delighted in her simple way to see Jasper again. ‘Give you good day Jasper,’ she said with a little bob.
He strode forward and sent her into a flurry by kissing her hand. ‘Bethan, looking as beautiful as ever and blessed again I see.’ His sharp eyes had noticed her swollen belly. ‘God protect you, and the little one.’ He squatted down and ruffled Nesta’s curly mop of bronze hair. She stared solemnly back at him, her dark eyes enormous. ‘Oh you are a brave girl,’ he said, smiling. ‘Most children I speak to immediately start yelling.’ He glanced up at me. ‘So this is the newborn babe you brought into the world the last time I was here?’
‘Well, the midwife helped a little,’ I said, ‘and Bethan helped a lot, obviously!’
‘What is your name?’ Jasper was still squatting at the infant’s level.
‘Nesta,’ piped the little girl.
‘It is a Welsh form of Agnes. Bethan loved my mother.’ For some reason I felt it necessary to explain why the offspring of a second wife should be named for the one who had preceded her.
‘Agnes is in heaven,’ my stepmother said in her guileless treble. ‘She looks after my Nesta.’
Jasper straightened up. ‘It is a pretty name for a pretty girl,’ he told Bethan.
At this moment my father and my brother Maredudd strode around the corner of the house, wiping hands mired with sheep grease on their smocks. Hywel bent his knee to Jasper respectfully. ‘I was told the Earl of Pembroke was here,’ he said. ‘You are welcome to Tŷ Cerrig, my lord.’
Jasper urged him to his feet, clasping his shoulder in warm greeting. ‘I thank you, cousin Hywel. I hope you and your family will always think of me as Jasper,’ he said. ‘Indeed I hope I may rely on the continued friendship and support of all my Welsh kin.’
‘The Earls of Pembroke have not always found favour among the Welsh,’ Hywel observed, edging himself free. ‘Especially here in the north.’ I could sense an uneasy tension about him and groped for a valid reason.
‘The Earl of Pembroke has never been a Welshman before,’ responded Jasper swiftly, turning to Maredudd, who had followed our father’s lead and set his knee to the ground. ‘Cousin Maredudd, I give you God’s good day as well. We parted friends two years ago. I hope nothing has changed.’
My brother’s attitude was less wary. ‘Not as far as I am concerned, Lord Jasper, but my father pays the king’s taxes and does not like the way they are spent.’ This revelation earned him a fierce frown from Hywel.
‘Ha!’ Jasper pulled Maredudd to his feet. ‘Nor does the Duke of York. Does that make you all Yorkists now? I confess I dislike the way the country is splitting between Lancaster and York. I myself favour a united front and peace with France and intend to work towards that end.’ He turned to Hywel. ‘As for the taxation, I have something to discuss which may ease your troubles on that score. Jane offered refreshment. May we talk over a mug of ale?’
The atmosphere shifted as my father remembered his duty of hospitality. ‘Of course, my lord, let us go in.’
Before climbing the steep stair to the upper hall of the farmhouse, Hywel and Maredudd stopped to strip off their malodorous smocks in the empty byre, replacing them with clean homespun tunics and washing their hands in water drawn from the cistern barrel outside the dairy door. Meanwhile I poured ale and Bethan fetched loaves from the morning’s batch of bread and a cheese from the store-cupboard, before retiring behind the solar curtain with Nesta.
Jasper accepted a full mug from me and took a long swallow while I opened the shutters, letting light into the dim hall. ‘I must say that a draught of your fine ale is very welcome, Jane. We have been in the saddle since daybreak.’ He sat down in the big hearth chair I indicated. ‘I am going to ask your brother Maredudd to join my household at Pembroke. Do you think he will accept a position as my squire?’
With a sudden surge of jealousy I realized how much I would relish the opportunity of escaping the confines of Tŷ Cerrig. The world outside was unknown to me, an unexplored land, and likely to remain so. ‘I cannot speak for my brother but if it were me I would jump at the chance,’ I said. I placed two trestles in the middle of the room, then Mair helped me fi
t the board across them.
Jasper watched us lay out the cheese and bread and begin to cut wedges. ‘Would you really like to leave Tŷ Cerrig, Jane?’ he asked with thoughtful surprise. ‘But how would your father manage without you? He has other sons to work the farm but no one else who can run the household as you do.’
I made no response because at that moment my father and brother entered the hall. Maredudd was hauling a pair of large and obviously heavy saddlebags, which he set down beside Jasper. ‘Your lad brought these up to the house,’ he said. ‘They feel as if they are full of gold.’
Jasper laughed and stood up, putting his mug down on the board. ‘They carry the parts of my armour that I am not wearing. Could I ask your help in removing the rest? I am sure I will not be needing it here.’
He watched keenly as Maredudd set about undoing the buckles that secured the various elements of armour he had considered necessary for protection on the road. I had no idea what any of them were called but I was surprised to hear Maredudd name each piece as he removed it, obviously impressed. ‘This is beautifully made, my lord. Fits you perfectly,’ he remarked, placing the last item on the pile of gleaming steel. ‘It must have cost a great deal. Shall I give it a rub before I put it in the bag?’
Stripped to tunic and hose, Jasper looked considerably more comfortable. ‘Not now, thank you.’ He shook his head and went to pull his chair up to the table but Maredudd was ahead of him, placing it at the centre of the board and pushing it in as Jasper sat himself down. ‘Perhaps later, after we have all spoken a little together. And let us eat while we talk. I confess I am hungry.’
I went to replenish his supply of ale and fill cups for my father and brother, who drew up a bench opposite Jasper. I found it strange to see my father take a subordinate position at his own board and it brought home to me the new gulf in rank between our Tudor cousin and us. I could see that Hywel was chafing silently under the inferior position.
‘Please sit with us, Jane,’ Jasper said unexpectedly. ‘If you can spare the time.’
I glanced at my father, received his curt nod of approval and slid onto the bench beside Maredudd. As I did so I remembered the rest of the men waiting for refreshment outside and reached out to cut another, much larger wedge off the big cheese wheel. I handed it to Mair and told her to draw some jugs of ale and take them with the cheese and several loaves down to the stables. ‘Do not linger down there gossiping,’ I charged her. ‘Get straight back to the dairy.’
‘There should be men waiting below to collect the victuals,’ Jasper said.
Far from looking grateful, garrulous Mair frowned and left the hall muttering under her breath, the heavy hunk of cheese held in her apron. I guessed that a flirtatious exchange with the men at arms would have provided her with a week’s supply of gossip.
For a short time the three men drank and ate without speaking and I nibbled at a crust of bread and picked at the morsels that had crumbled off the cheese. Jasper was the first to break the silence.
‘As you all appear to know already, my brother the king has granted me the earldom of Pembroke. When I was last here at Tŷ Cerrig I had not expected any such honour and I confess that running such widespread estates is a daunting prospect. There is already an administration in place but I am now in the process of appointing a household and retinue, people I can trust and who will serve me honestly and loyally. That is my main reason for coming here, apart of course from renewing old friendships and family ties. So Hywel, the position of Steward of Pembroke castle is available, which I offer to you if you feel you could combine it with your farming activities.’
He paused and we all looked expectantly at Hywel. As far as I knew few Welsh citizens held an office as high as steward, especially of a castle as important as Pembroke. I had never been there but I was aware that it was a major stronghold, one of a ring of fortresses built around the perimeter of Wales to preserve the English monarchy’s grip on the principality and defend it from outside attack. For the last two hundred years a succession of royal relatives and favourites had been installed as overlords of Pembroke and in return for its revenues had been expected to defend the south west shores of Wales from incursion, as well as dispense justice and keep the peace among the native population. I guessed that Jasper would be the first to try and achieve this with a foot in both camps – as the son of a Welshman and the brother of the king. It would not be easy and my father’s carefully worded reaction offered evidence of why.
‘I am grateful that you should consider me worthy of the honour, Lord Jasper,’ he said gruffly, ‘but with regret I must decline. Since your last visit, sadly my wife’s father, Emrys, has died and I have assumed control of her lands as well as my own. I would be unable to devote the necessary time to administering a castle of the size and importance of Pembroke, to say nothing of overseeing its estates in your lordship’s inevitable absences. I hope you will forgive my refusal and accept my apologies.’
In deference to Jasper’s presence we were speaking English and I was impressed by my father’s diplomacy in wording his rejection so tactfully in a language that was not his native tongue. I knew that Welsh had been his only language until he followed his cousin Owen Tudor to England to serve Queen Catherine, but since then, with my mother’s help, as well as English he had acquired a smattering of French. This and his comprehensive grasp of land-use would have made him a very suitable candidate for the job of Pembroke’s seneschal.
Jasper seemed undaunted by his response. ‘I cannot say I am surprised by your answer, Hywel,’ he said. ‘You are right to put the needs of your family and farms first. My condolences on the death of your father-in-law but congratulations on what I am sure you hope will be another son. However, even though I cannot count on your services, I trust you will retain an attachment to my affinity and that I may call on our family ties should the need ever arrive.’
By that I took him to mean military support in time of trouble and it might have been a cue for Hywel to offer his oath of allegiance but my father made no move to make it. Instead he nodded slowly and acquiesced rather half-heartedly. ‘I would not ignore your call, cousin,’ he said. ‘And I wish you well in your endeavours.’
His tone implied that he did not believe success was very likely but again Jasper chose not to notice. ‘Thank you, Hywel. I know you will be anxious to return to your sheep but there is one other matter that I must place before you. I would also like to offer Maredudd a position as a squire in my retinue. I realize this would take him away from the farm and from his roots but I am hoping that the opportunities it would offer him to expand his horizons and learn new skills will sway your decision and that you will allow him to go.’
Hywel turned to look at his son, who had become pink with excitement. Like me, Maredudd was obviously keen to explore the wider world. ‘Remember that you were permitted to follow Owen Tudor to England, Father,’ he said breathlessly and in Welsh, before Hywel could speak. ‘I too need a chance to spread my wings and Dai is growing more capable by the day.’
Hywel replied in the same language, while Jasper glanced from one to the other trying to fathom what was said. ‘I do not forget my service to Queen Catherine and the advantages it brought me, son, but I cannot afford to lose your labour on the farm unless the rich new lord pays for your absence so that I can hire a man to replace you. Ask him.’
Maredudd shook his head, scowling. ‘No, you ask him. He says I can only go if you say so.’
Jasper looked at me, one eyebrow raised in query. Torn between loyalty to my father and a sudden urge to support Jasper, I found myself opting for the latter, mainly due to what I considered to be my father’s discourtesy in using a language that he knew his guest did not understand. Learned at my mother’s knee, my French was fluent and I knew Jasper had learned his the same way, so I decided to present Hywel with a taste of his own treatment, knowing he could only follow simple French, spoken slowly.
‘They are arguing about money.’ I sa
id quickly to Jasper. ‘My father says he cannot afford to lose Maredudd’s labour unless you finance someone to replace him. In other words he wants you to pay him for the privilege of taking his son away. You could call it extortion.’
To my surprise Jasper grinned and responded in equally swift French, causing both my father and brother to glower in frustration. ‘I would not call it that. I was going to offer compensation anyway but they started gabbling away to each other and I did not like to interrupt.’ He switched to English and turned his smile on Hywel. ‘Now that I know what you were talking about let me put your mind at rest, cousin. I confess that it would be of great comfort to me to have a family member among my close companions but of course I would not take Maredudd away from the farm without offering you some form of financial compensation. Once I know that he is willing to swear allegiance to me we can talk money – preferably in a language we can all understand.’
He fixed my brother with a searching, sapphire gaze, speaking with a new solemnity. ‘If you are to become one of my squires of the body, Maredudd, an oath of allegiance is essential. I have seen your interest in armour and your skill with the bow, and I know your honesty and enthusiasm, but are you prepared to put your hands between mine and swear to serve me, Jasper Earl of Pembroke, faithfully and to the exclusion of all others? Without that solemn oath we cannot continue.’
Judging by his expression Maredudd was experiencing inner turmoil. He was acutely aware of our father’s ambivalence towards this Tudor cousin, half-brother to an English king, whose Lancastrian forefathers had within living memory brought ruin and deprivation to Wales. To swear allegiance to Jasper now might in the future mean having to abandon his natural allegiance to his father. In an agony of indecision Maredudd frowned fiercely at me, seeking my opinion and I responded with an almost indecipherable nod. I hoped God would forgive me for disloyalty to my father, but I could not believe that the attributes I discerned in Jasper – honour, integrity and a sense of justice – could set a bad example to my brother or lead him into actions that were incompatible with his family obligations.
First of the Tudors Page 7
